


Paper Stars

by chiisagi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Comfort, Flashbacks, Friendship/Love, Humor, M/M, Nostalgia, Parallels, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3203615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiisagi/pseuds/chiisagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take a strip and lightly knot at a point past its middle.<br/>Fold the shorter end and tuck inside.<br/>Wrap the other length around the pentagon, pocketing what's left into a fold.<br/>Pinch the corners into pointed arms.<br/>What you have left are two intertwined lives encased in a paper star.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic, where to start...
> 
> It was written for the Ameripan Secret Santa 2014 for [hollowolfpup](http://hollowolfpup.tumblr.com/), though all of a sudden I've become so engrossed in my own work to transform it into a multi-chapter fic. It took me a long time to write it, going through some good and bad times, but in a summation I have somehow become attached to it (since I've also been drawing art and even making a playlist to go along).
> 
> A brief note before you proceed is to expect a lot of...italics. *flashbacks and timeline-switching*
> 
> I hope that you will enjoy reading this!

_Fretful, young eyes the color of golden brown maintained contact with the wide cork of a medium-sized jar, some strands of black sliding onto them. Whitened knuckles clenched the said jar, clammily trying to stabilize themselves. With words that stuttered and stumbled out of the shy boy, he fought for air as he continued to speak through limitations that bound him to his own mind._

_“For you…”_

_A taller boy whose glasses brightly reflected the remaining rays of the sun sat next to him. He stared back at the other with a small smile of friendliness, causing the band-aid that stuck protectively on his right cheek to slightly lift. While he sat comfortably on the front step of a tall but simple house, in comparison the one next to him shrunk in nervousness, waiting for an answer that he hoped would not be of rejection._

_“Me? Thanks a bunch, I really like it!” Glasses giggled in excitement. He accepted the jar when it was sheepishly offered to him, observing it with wonder. “Wowie…it’s awfully big. Am I s’pposed to catch Godzilla with it or…?” he jokes, his childish laugh resonating through the timid soul of the quiet boy._

_“…it’s because—” Shy realized what he said after the words came out and quickly tried to persevere, opening his mouth with emptiness following shortly after. Closing it in defeat, the reason needn’t be said for there isn’t one that he could think of nor properly formulate into words._

_As he recomputed the purpose carefully in his head, the other continued to gawk at the jar with lively blue eyes behind their rectangular frames. They slid down on his nose during examination, turning the said jar sideways and such, and thus making the contents inside it tumble around._

_“So, what’s it for?” he urged, a charming smile slipping onto his young features. Finally it seemed that the raven-haired boy had an answer, for his gaze returned back to Glasses. Instead of finding the_ why _, he decided on its_ what _instead._

_“Paper stars,” said Shy with resolution._

_“Paper stars, huh?” mused the jar’s new owner, “Then I’m guessing that the stuff inside is the strips you use to make them. I’ve heard of the story that if you fill the jar, you get a wish…right?”_

_Shy nodded, the dark fringes that accentuated his face jumping along with his movement. Smiling ever so faintly, Glasses caught notice of this and proceeded to display a toothy grin, happy that he managed to open him up a little. His band-aid raised quite a distance._

_“That’s so cool!! But wait…” his face dropped the smile for a second. “I can’t fill the jar with just these strips…oh, gosh darn it. There goes my wish.”_

_The other spoke up so as to reciprocate the favor, “Well…if you want, I’ll send you more…” he nodded in certainty, “…just mail me when you need them…!” His stare persisted with the downtrodden boy so that he saw his usual optimistic nature quickly come back._

_“Good idea…now I can’t wait to fill this up!” Glasses exclaimed with his smile steadily growing. “The day I stop asking for strips is the day I stop being friends with you!”_

* * *

 

Echoes of a faraway past evaporated into the air without a trace, now morphing into a moving photograph of history. It flew away, out the window of a blurred classroom, and into the azureness of the sky. The origin of this photograph remained static amongst the quick scribbling of other students that mimicked the words on the board up ahead. An outlier from the uniformity, he preferred to drift into other minuscule nonsense as he had already gotten the work done in advance.

Narrowed, wary eyes the color of darkly dulled brown gazed into oblivion, the desk being its only borders. Slender fingers lightly held on to the edge of a pencil that tapped into the black locks of its possessor, tuning out everything beyond his mental state. With thoughts that slid and flowed through the mind of the calculating teen, he bit his lip as he pushed on remembering the final words that bled on the notebook he had written before him.

Eventually, he placed the pencil down and laid his head lazily on his arm.

_“The day I stop asking for strips is the day I stop being friends with you!”_

Well, you stopped asking for strips years ago, he said in his mind.


	2. Kiku

Out of the corner of her eye, the professor of the classroom noticed him seemingly lazing around without a care of her (what she thought to be) well-planned lessons, and so she resolved to test him again as she does every other moment.

“Kiku Honda,” she snapped in a shrill voice, “Will you please explain to the class what occurred in—“

“July 8, 1853: the arrival of the ‘Black Ships’,” he answered monotonously with his back straightened up before the teacher was able to blink, “during which Japan had been forced into trade with the United States. Said event was led by Commodore Matthew Perry, whom with his crew had sailed into Tokyo Harbor to initiate such a compromise. Consequently did other foreign powers follow suit, which proved to be rather unfavorable to the island nation as they could not fully defend themselves yet in that current time frame.” Taken aback more by his readiness than by his certainly correct answer, she huffed and returned to her lesson.

The ticking of the clock mirrored the ticking of the gears inside Kiku’s head once he resumed his thoughts. It shouldn’t matter anymore, as this was his last class of the day anyway. He would then be able to go back home, do his homework, and go to bed like any other day. The hour ticked into nothingness, leaving him only a few minutes before he will go along with the schedule. Surely there wouldn’t be any need to think about such things; this was his daily lifestyle.

“Oh—before the bell rings, I need to remind you of something important…” brought up the teacher to bring the class to a close. Kiku didn’t bother listening as he gathered his belongings. “…tomorrow, a new student will be joining our class, so please be nice to him.”

By the time the bell rung, he already had all his things inside his backpack, needing only for him to stand up and leave. Kiku isn’t one to rush, and so he waited for the majority of the people in his class to leave before he did so himself. In all truthfulness, he found it unnecessary to make it a race with leaving the school; they will get home either way.

His house isn’t very far away, and in fact it was walking distance, so it was very convenient for Kiku. He could leave school whenever he pleases, but he prefers to stick to his schedule. Walking down the halls in ignorance of all the chatter and various public displays of affection, the Japanese boy assured himself that he will arrive home in no time. There were no friends he would bid farewell to, and he is satisfied with it.

Kiku’s parents don’t usually come home until the sun dips below the horizon, but they trust their son enough to know the exact time he will be home and the exact time he will leave home in the morning. The mutual trust interchanging inside the small nuclear family was enough for stability that he inwardly appreciated. Upon arrival to his doorstep, the glint of a small metal was brought out in the open. A push, a turn, a click, and gone was the key. Kiku grabbed the knob and—

“I guess moving here isn’t so bad after all.”

—a pause.

“…well, this neighborhood’s way too quiet for me, but I can definitely fix that! Haha!!”

The disruption of thoughts and the transgression of schedule irked Kiku enough and allowed himself in before he could hear anymore.

* * *

 

_“Hey…”_

_The blonde boy patted on the cotton sleeve of a sobbing mess._

_“What’s wrong?” he asked, truthfully concerned for him. The one below him could only glance back for a second before crying out some more. Pushing up his frames in determination, he made sure to get to the bottom of this._

_“…alright, who hurt you. I’ll punch ‘em in the face and send ‘em orbiting the Kuiper Belt!!” he vowed as he waved his fist in the air. His little love for astronomy spilled into his words as he gesticulated like a hero in a movie. However, his fist was met by a petite hand that delicately lowered it._

_“No…” Glance hiccupped, trying to subdue his tears. Confused by his friend, Hero softened his features and asked again._

_“Then why’re ya crying?” Only small sniffling came in reply, and so he coaxed him further. “Yanno, it kinda makes me sad too t’see a friend crying. At least tell me so I can help you.”_

_It took Glance a deep breath to collect his wits together._

_“I’m…moving…”_

_The widening of eyes pursued in the silence that hung between the two. All of a sudden, Hero’s throat went dry, and the mouth that once produced the words that stood both he and Glance up died away, leaving them crippled. Reaching this point of desperation, he merely stood with his hand glued to the other’s shoulder, allowing his presence to be the only help he could give._

_The tears carried on._


	3. Alfred

The beaming smile of a tall American standing up front could have brightened the entire classroom even without its fluorescent lights. He scratched the back of his golden head for a moment as he searched for his own words.

“Um…hi! I’m really excited to be in this class, let alone this school.”

A widening of eyes pursued in the small chatters that rung amid the students. All of a sudden, Kiku’s throat went dry, and the mouth that once muttered the words that sent him spiraling in his eternal struggle for remembrance died away, leaving them forgotten. At this point of astonishment, he deliberately hunched in his seat with a pencil in his hand, scrawling to seem busy, and allowing his presence to vanish from the crowd that boomed with interest.

Surely, it couldn’t be him. He hasn’t heard from him in ages.

“By the way, my name’s Alfred F. Jones, but you can just call me Alfred. Al, if ya like!”

The lead on Kiku’s pencil broke.

Scanning through the glasses that sat on his nose, Alfred absorbed the faces of the pupils to analyze his potential pal for the rest of the school year. While everyone tried offering him a seat, going as far as kicking other students from their chair, there was one vacant desk in the far back that happened to be adjacent to a short and darkly-haired schoolboy looking through his pencil case for who knows what. With a request that was permitted, Alfred found his way shuffling through the wave of uniforms that practically attempted to claw and tug at him; regardless, he smiled at them despite their obnoxious actions.

The sound of a backpack thrown on a nearby chair jolted Kiku to his senses, freezing him at the spot. Searching for lead was a job now nulled and pointless. Inwardly he could feel his breathing hitch, and as much as he tried easing it down, it wouldn’t cooperate in the least. So that he may take a shot at going unnoticed, Kiku simply turned his attention to the nearby windows opposite of the disturbance to his right. Although he expected some kind of interaction, or maybe even a word or two, none was heard. Instead, only the indistinct conversations of his classmates retained, but nothing else specific since the situating of this new student. This relieved him by a small amount. Perhaps the other retreated his attention back to the teacher, listening to her disciplinary babbles this very moment. Confidence regaining, he gradually turned his head back, and was soon met with the penetration of Alfred’s eyes fixated on him.

“Sup, Keeks,” he said with a smug smirk, “thought you could escape from me, huh?”

His remark was swiftly met by a notebook in his face.

“H-hey!! Chill, dude. I haven’t seen you in like…what, a million years? And your first greeting is throwing a freakin’ notebook in my face! Nice.”

Kiku remained silent, his focus shifting down to his lap. Shaking his head in disbelief as Alfred places the notes back on his desk, a reminiscent grin replaces the smirk.

“You’ve changed quite a lot, but still the same Kiku I remember! To be honest, I didn’t expect you to be here.” Pausing for a bit, he resumes, “…which reminds me. We need to catch up on so many things! Starting with that one anime we used to watch all the time. I heard it ended recently and I managed to finish it, but did you? Oh, and also! You wouldn’t believe what I…“

Alfred’s jabbering continued on and soon faded into a vague noise. Paying attention to none of it, Kiku could only process the conflicting feelings that are currently clashing inside him. After so many years of disconnection, here he was, talking to him as if that long gap of speechlessness never occurred. How exactly is he supposed to feel? Is there a correct way to feel in a situation like this? He wasn’t so sure, but what bothered him the most was that none of them were of happiness. Brushing past the bangs that slightly hid his eyes, Kiku could barely see Alfred being pulled away into another conversation with the students in his vicinity.

Again the hours ticked, fully synchronized with his cerebral gears, only that now he wished he had oil to give to the forming rust.

 

“Wait… you live in this neighborhood too?!”

For some odd reason, Alfred found that after a long day of pestering Kiku and following him around, he should walk him back to his house. Just like the way they used to do as kids, but with their parents of course.

“So this is where you moved to…” Craning his neck a little to get a good view of all the houses in the area, Alfred whistled in approval. Kiku said nothing. The two thus walked on, with the taller bringing up small talk, and the shorter remaining only receptive. They both stop when they reach the doorstep.

“Well, now that I moved here, it’ll be like old times again! My house is just around the corner if you need me,” he commented with his characteristic smile. Kiku gave a small nod in response and opened his door. “See you—” Alfred lifted his hand to wave when the door closed in his face.

“…tomorrow.”

The friendly wave faltering, he stared at the door briefly, giving a small sigh as he did. “Maybe he’s still trying to process everything…” he mumbled to himself, stepping off and walking in the opposite direction. “I dunno how to read minds, Keeks. I just know how to open them…”

* * *

 

_“Alright kids, today’s moving day so pack up your things and find a seat you’d like to sit in!”_

_Excited squeals filled the colorful little classroom, accompanied by the sounds of shuffling and small hands hurrying to stuff assorted materials into their bags. One by one, each of the tots ran to the front with a significantly quiet boy walking in last with his own things. Once the teacher announced that they could begin finding their desired seat, stubby legs scrambled everywhere as screams of competition arose in a heightened fervor. The event lasted much longer than the older figure would have expected, especially from the unbendable grit of such small children. This being finished, a sort of superficial stillness consumed the air as one remained with arms crossed against chest._

_“Gee whiz…” the isolated boy snapped his fingers as the teacher turned to look at him inquisitively, “I thought_ I _would be fast, but you guys are practically animals with this whole seat thing!” A roar of laughter shook through the room, earning him a confident grin._

_“Yes, I’m sure it must be very difficult for you,” joked the teacher along, “but there are some empty seats scattered about. You’re free to take any one you want.”_

_Months have passed since Grin enrolled into his school, and now Moving Day has approached to give him a chance for a fresh start. Instances popped up where he discovered the opportunity to befriend numerous people, and it happened much more than what he initially imagined. Somehow, it did reach to him being liked by everyone—excluding one such boy sitting at the very back whom he could not tell whether or not he did—but still he held his beam with a resolute grasp._

_“Thanks, miss. Think I found one.”_

_One of his classmates who happened to sit next to an empty desk gasped in delight for she saw him heading in her direction, but once he passed her and continued walking on, she blinked at the action and gave a look of disbelief, soon morphing into disgust. Grin was not so sure about the spot he chose, but he would be willing to give it a try just to see how he would be accepted by his soon-to-be seatmate. Claiming his new seat that sat as last of his column, he gave the woman ahead a nod. With this, she questioned him._

_“Are you sure you can see from back there?” In response, Grin readjusted his glasses and gave her a thumbs-up._

_For some time after class had fully resumed, he immersed himself in gathering what he could about the silence that hung next to him. It was as if the next seat over was occupied by a ghost, and so he decided to spark up a side conversation._

_“So!” he started as he leaned over to the adjacent desk. The other withdrew back, unsure of his bold gesture. “How’re ya liking yer new seat?”_

_Ghost could not find a response in his mouth and thus only shrugged, returning to his work soon after. This surprised Grin by a small bit, but he didn’t back down, especially when he caught something out of the corner of his eye._

_“…hey…did you draw that?” he asked him, pointing over to the small doodle of a spiky-haired individual with the characters ナルト inscribed under. He ogled over the picture with amazement, making the carbon lines on the paper a huge spectacle to him. From this, Ghost looked at him curiously, now that his focus had been stolen. Still he could not speak, and so he could only stare back. It was not that it was the Mona Lisa (though Grin did have to admit it was on a level that he believed he would never reach), but more so over who it was that had been drawn._

_“Dude, I really can’t read what you wrote, but I’m gonna guess that you watch the show that this guy’s in too…right??” he pressed, eager to know. Ghost could only nod as an answer, and out of this, it seemed as if Grin was about to lose his mind._

_“Oh…my…GOSH—I can’t believe it! Out of all the people I know, you’re the only one who does! We_ need _to talk more!!”_

_To the other, as much as nobody could ever approach him with an understanding of his estrangement and startlingly cynical viewpoint of a similar future, it was in this exact point of time that Ghost found a sudden turn—a turn that finally was one of positivity._

_With this thought in mind, he flashed a faint grin that he thought would have been lost forever in his sea of memories. At long last, he had made a friend._

_“Also…you don’t really talk a lot, do ya. What was your name?”_


	4. Eshajouri

Books were carefully shifted around inside its restricted space with time outside it becoming a lost essence. They came and went—students, teachers, miscellaneous staff—until they distorted into a languid haze. Established in the middle of it all with his backpack slung on his shoulder, Kiku only needed to retrieve one or two books, and then he’ll be on his way. And nonetheless, he stood unmoving with his hands faltering from its busy work and his eyes scrutinizing the photograph magnetized against the locker door. He only put it there for a reason now long forgotten. Here and there Kiku would glance at the photo while books are taken and replaced, and it was only now that he had taken the time to actually contemplate it over as a frozen scene of the past. For a second, his eyes flashed over the locker door to catch a glimpse of Alfred talking with several other well-known classmates of his. Whatever he felt didn’t prove to be of any importance (for they are subsequently suppressed anyway), so he returned his focus to tessering with time.

Months have passed since Alfred enrolled into his school, and now winter break is approaching from around the corner. Instances popped up where he would try to intervene with Kiku’s precious schedule, and it happened much more than what he could tolerate. Somehow, it did reach a point when Kiku dropped his aloof behavior—in which he frequently questioned himself how exactly that happened—but still he held the mask with a resolute grasp.

The questions popped increasingly in his clockwork mind. _To drop a behavior and still maintain a mask? Quite irrational and contradicting, really. Yet, to look at the picture from a different perspective, is the mask itself even real, or a mere fabrication? Why can’t I reach a definite conclusion?_

Kiku’s eyebrows furrowed at the search for a conscientious answer.

* * *

 

_“Yo, Keeks!!” Kiku blinked and turned around in confusion to see Alfred holding up his phone with a cocky smile. “Let’s take a selfie together!”_

_“Ahm…I’d rather not—“_

_“Don’t worry, I’m just taking one!” The camera flash going off, Alfred looks over at his phone to reveal him with Kiku covering his face._

_He laughed wholeheartedly as Kiku slunk away._

—

_As much as he tried to read his novel in peace, Kiku could not block out the crunching to his right. Already he knew that it was Alfred and so when he turned, he automatically glowered up at him, only to find that he was eating roasted seaweed._

_Right, he forgot. Alfred loved those._

_The said teenager lifted an eyebrow, munching down on the snack as he did. Midway, he paused, looked down at the pack in his hand, then back at Kiku._

_“Want some?”_

_Kiku did love them too, especially because of the saltiness, but he was an obstinate Japanese young man and will give in to nothing._

_“It’s Teriyaki flavored.”_

_He guiltily took a piece and whipped back to his novel. Alfred could only sneak a slight chuckle._

—

_The entire classroom remained quiet save for the arduous writing from most of the students during a study period. Kiku already was very far ahead, though from overworking himself he found the need to repeat the easiest of questions over again. Because of this, he had to take his eyes off the workbook even for just a couple seconds._

_Subconsciously his head turned to the person next to him, and shockingly enough he was working on his assignments like him, even managing to disregard the various students that would try to approach him for a conversation. Kiku was intrigued by Alfred’s ability to ignore everything else around him until he saw that he was connected to his music._

_Moreover, when he peeked over, Alfred was actually drawing rather than studying. This peeved Kiku a bit and was about to tell him off when the other noticed him. Taking off one bud from his ear, he held it out._

_“You gotta listen to this song. It’s been stuck in my head for a really long time and I think you’d like it!” he said a little louder than a whisper._

_Kiku eyed the bud with hesitance, for he was sure that Alfred wasn’t one to listen to classical music. Still, Alfred persisted and so he took the bud and tentatively placed it in his ear._

“Dear Prudence, open up your eyes;

Dear Prudence, see the sunny skies;

The wind is low, the birds will sing;

That you are part of everything;

Dear Prudence, won’t you open up your eyes?

Look around around;

Look around around around;

Look around…”

_The tune eased him to a certain degree, and because it managed to erase most of his weariness, Kiku carried back on with his work with the bud still in his ear._

_On the other end of the line, Alfred added the finishing touches to his drawing of himself and Kiku cosplaying._

—

_“Hey Keeks!!” Kiku jumped and shuffled away until he was caught in the shoulder by the hand of the taller student. “Let’s take another selfie!”_

_Unable to escape now, he instead tried to reason. “I need to hurry to another class immediately—”_

_“Nice try, but you’re not getting outta this one!” The camera flash going off, Alfred looks over at his phone to reveal him with Kiku looking away in exasperation._

_He snickered as Kiku sighed distastefully._

—

_Squeaks and screeches emanated from a rapidly scribbling marker on the board with the accompaniment of an instructive droning, leading the rest of the pencils to copy along. It was one of those days where nothing occurred out of the ordinary, for even Alfred bothered himself to jot down the notes that the teacher scrawled along. Still, from the quiet observations of his next seat over, he could tell that was something was off. Out of this suspicion, he backed away from the synchronized writers and turned to him._

_“What did you do,” Kiku probed expectantly, as already he could tell that the other had devised some kind of plot somewhere around._

_For a long time he tried to accustom himself with Alfred’s affinity towards practical jokes, and none of them did he ever laugh to. Most of the time, it resulted with a shake of disapproval, or he pretended not to notice so as to save himself from second-hand embarrassment. Either way, he hoped that he would not get involved because of the clean record he had maintained through long years of untainted responsibility._

_A stifled snerk disrupted the tempo of Alfred’s note-taking and forced him to have to stop so that he may explain himself._

_“Wait for it.”_

_Directing his eyes up ahead, Kiku with a look of confusion trailed his gaze along. Nothing seemed to happen as the teacher continued to write, though as soon as he tugged on the rope that should pull down the projector screen, in its place a barrage of ping pong balls with drawings of yaranaika faces bombarded the man to the ground. One by one, the jotters of the classroom burst into in laughter, with Alfred’s being the most eminent._

_Although it was only one to add to the plentiful (and dubiously grand) pranks that he had pulled, today Kiku found himself chuckling just a little._

—

_In the presence of a cold winter morning, Kiku walked beside the sidewalk with a scarf wrapped snuggly around his neck. A fresh layer of snow covered much of anything he could lay his eyes on, resulting in the sound of ice softly crushing underneath his boots. Even if it was Saturday, he chose to take a simple walk around the street as a sort of break from schoolwork. Naturally Kiku would wake up early anyway, and it’s best to relax in the morning before beginning work in the afternoon. With that in mind, he put his mind in a serene state._

_Seconds after he had done so, a sudden force from behind with the simultaneous dispersal of a chilling sensation shot through his system. It caused Kiku to abruptly gasp, almost toppling him over. He didn’t have to turn around to know the perpetrator, for he could already hear the stifled laughter behind him._

_Alfred did his best to calm himself down, for laughing any harder would probably freeze his face at the spot. Eventually did his laughter subside when he noticed an empty response from the scarved figure hunching over. His actions circulated back into registration and he started to dash forward when an icy white fuzziness hit him in the face with such an impact that it knocked his glasses clean off._

_Stumbling into the white blankets, Alfred had to rub the snow off his face, still processing what had happened. By the time he found his glasses and his vision re-adjusted, he saw Kiku running over to him while muttering a long string of apologies._

_“You…” Alfred began, blinking with incredulous eyes, “…you were the one that threw that?”_

_Filled with remorse, Kiku nodded wordlessly. Moments passed by with no exchange of communication until slowly a large grin formed on Alfred’s face._

_“That…was_ incredible _!!”_

_Whether it was the cold or not that caused Kiku’s cheeks to tint a slight reddish color, he could not subdue a smile. Even a laugh._

—

_“Oi—” Kiku waved at the approaching teen, finishing his words for him._

_“I’m assuming that we are taking another selfie?”_

_Alfred stopped short. “Um…yeah! How’d ya know?” Kiku merely shrugged._

_“Alright, say ‘Keeks’!” The camera flash going off, Alfred looks over at his phone to reveal him with Kiku…that’s it. The picture was a normal selfie without anything out of the ordinary._

_Then he zoomed in, revealing that Kiku had given him bunny ears._

_“Wh… When did— …hey, get back here!!”_

—

_Pulling out a bento lunch, Kiku was going to open his meal when Alfred called over._

_“Keeks! I got some Pocky that I’d love to—”_

_A notebook met his face before he could finish his sentence._

—

_Deep rumbling resounded in the grayness of the heavens above as Kiku looked outside the windows in dismay. Soon enough, the view of outside dulled further and further into a blotted mess, trailing down them to collect at its bottom frame. Even if he enjoyed the strange calming of the rain’s pitter-patter, he undoubtedly did not enjoy getting caught in one without being prepared. After a second search through his backpack, it was for sure devoid of any umbrellas or rain coats._

_“Gee…that really sucks, Keeks.”_

_Kiku sighed, “I truly am not sure how I’ll be getting home now without getting soaking wet.”_

_“Me either…” agreed Alfred as he lazily waved around his folded umbrella with a look of disinterest. The other rolled his eyes, feeling himself get warm in the face._

_What before was a light drizzle of small raindrops developed somehow into massively destructive spheres dropping down to impact with a miniature tide of water. Thankfully it was not enough to flood the path that the two would usually take to get home. Closely together, they slogged their way through with Alfred holding the umbrella up high for both of them. Either it was a preference or plain bragging rights, the umbrella was large enough to keep the two of them dry. It took a bit longer, but they did reach Kiku’s house, to which he expressed his gratitude before they parted ways._

_The entire endeavor itself was quite a topic that Kiku pensively thought about. It was practical, it was out of the blue, and it was something that Alfred surely had as much knowledge about as well. Sharing umbrellas meant nothing, and that was more of a strenuous trial than anything out of a shoujo manga. Yet, the lingering memory remains._

_And this, they kept to themselves._

* * *

 

_…eshajouri._

Kiku repeated his answer, unsure of its accuracy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [会者定離 / Eshajouri](http://wordstuck.co.vu/post/102571264489) : (n.) “People meet, always part”; The concept that expresses the idea about the impermanence of all things, that every human relationship will end someday due to the transient nature of life.


	5. Extraneous

The longer he stared at the photograph of him and Alfred when they were younger, the more he steadily philosophized. Scattered data that he had been gathering for years on end were putting themselves together in his invisible psyche, allowing for him to progressively grasp the concept of their relationship as if it were a mathematical theory. Yes, it would be so much easier if it were indeed arithmetically related; there would be a solid answer, and no gray area. In the real world…no, it was so much more difficult.

Taking the fragile picture gingerly with his index and thumb, Kiku closely inspected the contents. It was taken a rather long time ago, and the setting of the photograph took place on Alfred’s old front porch. One of them was holding something as both displayed a smile, with the framed boy’s a bit larger. Anything other than that was regrettably vague and most likely extra or unneeded. Even with the evidence provided before him, Kiku was still convinced that another answer was there somewhere.

_Why is it that despite the times that we’ve come to mend ourselves and each other, I’m still missing something? It’s making me feel anomalous—is it then that this feeling of emptiness came to be the manifestation of my mask? The mask that forms my smiles, my laughter, and…_

His face contorted further with the increasing feeling of conflict within him.

_But I digress. I can’t get my answer without recovering that one bit of pure completion. What’s missing?_

Distressed and near frantic, the same scene that he forced himself to forget replayed.

_“That’s so cool!! But wait…”_

The source of his madness returned in full force.

_“I can’t fill the jar with just these strips…oh, gosh darn it. There goes my wish.”_

And it has come to provide him with more evidence than what he can handle.

_“Good idea…now I can’t wait to fill this up!”_

Except that one thing is still missing.

_“The day I stop asking for strips is the day I stop being friends with you—”_

Abruptly, Alfred’s voice pierced through his contemplations, causing both them and the photograph to slip away.

“Hey…you okay? You’ve been spacing out for a while,” he said in concern, waving his hand in front of Kiku’s face. The other in turn shoved his hand away more forcefully than what he had intended to. Alfred, confused by the sudden hostility, assumed it as nothing and pursued on.

“So um…I kinda decided to take a break from the dudes in that group I was talking to earlier,” he diverged as he rubbed the back of his neck, “It really is tiring being popular!” Although he aimed for the joke to bring a sense of cordiality back in Kiku, it only seemed to affect him fruitlessly, and if at all, decreasingly. Alfred watched as he closed the locker and walked away without so much as a response. From this, he decided to take initiative.

Before reaching the corner, Alfred blocked his path. “Alright, what’s up. I can see that something’s wrong.” Kiku took a look at Alfred and unknowingly grimaced. With the usual ‘ _I’m fine_ ,’ he tried to evade his obstacle but was stopped once more.

“Wait! Will you please tell me—”

Alfred wasn’t one to easily yield, but so isn’t Kiku. “It’s nothing,” he murmured as he veered away while avoiding eye contact. More attempts were only met with more barricading.

“Stop pushing me away. Come on, Keeks, I want to help.”

“Would you kindly leave me alone, then? It would be very much appreciated.”

“Not until you tell me what’s really going on.”

“Alfred, move out of the way.”

“Just tell me the problem, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“Problem? The problem is that you won’t let me leave—”

“We both know that’s not it!”

“Well, it certainly is becoming it!”

Aggravated, Alfred ran a hand through the mop of hair that was beginning to gather in his face. “You know, ever since I came here and saw my buddy again, I knew it was going to take time! But here we are, back at square one, going backwards—”

“Stop.”

“—and because it’s been such a long time, obviously we wouldn’t hit off that easily—”

“Alfred.”

“—but I thought you would’ve been a little glad since we’ve been best friends—”

“Since when!”

“…what?”

“None of what happened was genuine, nor could it ever be regarded as genuine. It only involved you following me everywhere and testing my patience! Now leave me _alone_!!”

The volume of Kiku’s voice was enough to shock not only Alfred, but himself as well. Never had he pushed himself as far as yelling to such an extent, and now it was impossible to reverse the words that spilled from his mouth. The flash of silence that hung between the two painstakingly dragged on until Alfred drew a shaky breath.

“I…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bothering you and talking to you. I’m sorry for trying to help you.” Here, his gaze began faltering. “I’m sorry for thinking that maybe we could build our way back up again, and maybe…” A noticeable tinge of pink from his flushed face became evident to Kiku, but he quickly shook his head and looked away. “…no, I was stupid for even thinking—I just…”

By and by, each word of his apology sent continuous daggers embedding into both of them that neither could vocalize for. The intensity of Kiku stopping Alfred before he could say anything further was at its maximum, yet his body wouldn’t recognize it. At his concluding verses, he looked back up to him with shame and regret etched on his face.

“…I’m really sorry, Kiku.”

Shifting away from the spot where he had repressed, Alfred disappeared behind the opposite corner, leaving only a void that further amplified the desolation in Kiku.

What stunned him more was the abandonment of his nickname.


	6. Surrealism

For several days, the two avoided each other with times where they would pass by without a word. What Kiku thought would last for a short bit spanned for days, cutting right through Finals and reaching as far as the day before the start of winter break. Students and teachers alike were relieved that testing was over, and so the last day was rather uneventful. The last school bell ringing for dismissal, everyone flooded the doors, a mass tidal wave crashing into the halls. Again, Kiku waited patiently in his seat for the majority to leave before he stood up to allow himself out.

As per usual, he visited his locker for a brief moment, planning to leave on the time that adhered to his schedule. Not a book had escaped the locker before Kiku heard several familiar voices around the corner in tones of threat and outrage. Reminders of the schedule screamed in his mind, but after gathering the books he needed, he furtively peeked past the wall to catch a fight involving one against many. All of them, he recognized.

“—so if the weird-ass loner’s gone, why aren’t you hanging out with us?”

“Stop talking false bullshit about him.”

The people he saw were the same people he had seen past the boundaries of his locker door.

“Oh, come on! He probably has no life. Fucking creep.”

“…I dare you to say that again to my face.”

One of those ganged up on the single person walked up close to him with head arrogantly levelled to match with the other, leaving what implied to be his associates to snicker and jeer. The belligerent teen, whose features were twisted to an incendiary expression, smirked at the face of his challenge with an excitement to condescend. Uttering every word with a lace of poison, he voiced the very statement of his opponent’s infuriation with a consequent shove and odious laughter.

“Honda. Is. A fucking. _Creep_.”

Yet, Alfred did not waver a single bit.

Similar to that day, the scene slowed into blurred figures throwing strikes and blows at each other. Even though Kiku needed to head home right away, his feet weighed him down so that he could not move away from where he was standing. The muscles in his neck froze, and he was forced to watch the ordeal with unblinking eyes. When blotches of scarlet began to appear, the instigator’s companions hurriedly broke up the fight and dragged him away from his foe before any of the staff could take notice.

Breathing in disoriented intervals, the American agonizingly stood up straight again as he removed the fractured glasses off his face. He brought the back of his hand to wipe at his split lip, revealing smudges of blood. The hall seemed to be barren of anyone else since they all ran off to their vacations, but as Alfred turned in the slightest, he caught a witness just outside his direct field of vision.

The two exchanged split-second glances of unnamed feelings before he swiftly trudged away, leaving Kiku alone in the hall just like before.

 

The way back felt entirely surreal. Shoes sloshing in the molten snow, Kiku walked aimlessly, tolerating for his legs to lead him home. His mind was too preoccupied with the job of replaying the last hour of what had happened, and it also disabled his ability to further reason or react. It took him twice the amount of time to return than what he regularly does.

Before he could enter the warmth of his house, Kiku found a package lying before the door. Staring at it fleetingly, he knelt down to inspect the box with an unintentional lighter level of analysis. It was wrapped in a simple Christmas pattern and adorned with a decently tied bow; the tag being addressed to him, the blank for the giver’s name was, on the contrary, left without a mark. Kiku scrutinized the tag for some time, and even if the present is for him, he could not be so sure. His parents’ car was not parked where it usually would be, and he had no friends nor acquaintances to give him such an item. Whatever it was, whomever it was really for, the apathetic boy brought the box in and stopped the winter cold from entering any more.

Kiku navigated to his room in the far back of the house and tossed his backpack by the desk, all the while placing the package on top of it. He found that the box was rather heavy and assumed for it to perhaps be some sort of new collection of books—if it was for him, of course.

Lying down on his bed, Kiku stared at the crisp paint job of his ceiling, wishing to sleep and maybe awake from this dream. On the other side of the room, a primly wrapped gift was left untouched on his desk to collect dust.


	7. Puzzle Pieces

The sun rose, it sank. The moon rose, it sank. The steady rhythm of these two celestial bodies continued on and will continue on, even behind the blinds that prevented their light from entering. What only filtered through were strips of stray brightness that fell upon the clean wooden flooring, illuminating what it possibly could. Particles floated and danced in the fragments of air that slipped through the blinds with nothing to disrupt them. The stillness of the room emanated a sense of serenity, for nothing arose in wishes of disturbance.

As to juxtapose along this room was its owner, who sat in his revolving chair with his hands engrossed in work. Stacks of books were piled to the side of his desk as he rigorously wrote on, the pen almost attaining a pattern of its own. Like most days, he was alone in the house with only his abstract mind as his company. It was just that the recent days have been too hectic for his brain to function properly, so after propping himself back up on his desk with several textbooks at hand, he was able to turn the gears once more. Back into its usual rational self, thankfully.

Unlike when school is in session, Kiku was not all too aware with time or date. At this moment, it should most likely be some days nearing on Christmas, though that is nothing of importance for him to regard anyway. He has not much else to do, nowhere to go, and the entire house was empty of any other breathing object. No complaints need to be uttered, and should a response be obligatory, it would be of a calm sigh and nothing more. Vacation was a good time to advance in schoolwork, and he considered that it would be an attentive idea of him to bring his textbooks along.

And, in the center of all his peace raged the unceasing storm in his subconscious, for every time Kiku would sit himself down for another decided session of studying, the same box rested right in front of him with a look of deterrence. It was not that he abhorred the presence of it, but more of the unknown vibes that penetrated him. After several times of placing it in other areas, it appeared to haunt him more if the present was not in sight. So, Kiku found it best for it to continue sitting where he had originally placed it in spite of its constant reminder.

Most of the time, he knew fully of what he was doing. Kiku was not the spontaneous type to go along with the flow, for all his actions were planned and figured before he would carry them out. Why he was beginning to pick at the tape that held the wrapper of the gift was beyond his understanding. At this point, books and notes were arbitrarily placed to the side so as to make more room. Bow having been slipped off, he carefully unwrapped it by tracing along the creases by which it was initially folded and peeling away.

_So that if it was truly a mistake, I can rewrap the package, replace the bow, and inquire around before Christmas arrives._

Before Kiku stood the gift, now stripped down to its bare container. It was merely a brown box with an envelope taped to the top. This caused him to internally cringe, knowing that he can’t simply reseal an envelope. The thought of placing whatever its contents are in a new one still made him hesitant, but he would never know or be sure if he didn’t try. Sooner or later, Kiku had the envelope opened with a note folded three ways in his hand.

He could not figure out why his heart had started beating faster, as he thought he had convinced himself far enough that this package was a mistake. Things like these were what troubled him deeply, yet he could do none to help it. The present was undone, the note was in his hand, what’s happened has happened and it would be a more reasonable choice to proceed than to back away.

Opening the top half, however, was already enough. The handwriting is all too recognizable. Kiku tried to shove away his qualms as he fully stretched out the entire note.

—

_Dear Kiku,_

_Hey. Sorry if this was kinda sudden or creepy, but I thought I’d drop by something quick before winter break starts. (Also if you noticed, which I’m sure you did, I didn’t include my name in the tag because you probably might trash the thing before you could even open it. I honestly wouldn’t mind that, but I’d rather you read this letter before anything else…actually, if you’re reading up to this point, I’m happy enough to have gotten your attention.)_

_Anyway, I wanna apologize again for that day when we fought. I should’ve just moved away, so it really was my fault since I tend to be an idiot. You had all the right to lash out, so don’t worry about it, okay? I hope your break’s going nice. Mattie and I agree that it's been kinda boring over here, but all’s well. I do need to address a few important things before we close out though._

_Back to the same time frame…I saw that you were staring at a photo when I looked over to you while talking with the other guys (which I found out later were a group of assholes). I didn’t really think much about it, but when I saw it again lying on the floor near your locker some days after, I finally knew. It took me some time to piece the puzzle together, but I figured it out._

_The picture of us. It was before you moved, wasn’t it._

_I remember we used to be such great friends when we were little. I also remember how much I started crying when I found out. That little promise we made—the one before you had to go—never disappeared in my mind at all, and the moment you left, I was determined to get down with it so that I could get my wish. Unfortunately I wasn’t that good at making them, but I got better. It took a long time, years even, to fill the jar. It made me happy every time I’d open the mailbox and see a package addressed from you, because not only would I have more strips, but I also get to read those letters that you’d always write to me. I was so excited about it…and I never realized that it would actually make me more sad than happy when I finally filled it. That was a day that I childishly pushed away, and looking back at it then, I could practically feel the melancholy that welled up inside me. I had my wish, but my journey had ended._

_It’s my fault, really. It was my fault for not sending you any more letters. It’s just that…as time progressed, I got busier and busier the more I was involved with school. That’s why our letter-exchange slowed down, and that’s why it stopped. I finally filled my jar, and it seems that I wasn’t friends with you anymore. I knew that wasn’t true, and as much as I wanted to reassure it with you, I just didn’t have the time anymore._

_It was recently that I discovered my wish came true. It made up for the years of silence we had between us, and I felt happier than all the times I read your letters combined. But now, I’m starting to doubt if it really did come true. If we’re not “friends” any longer, then supposedly it would be defunct. So, I don’t need this anymore, and I’m giving it back to you. Maybe you can wish for something in my place instead._

_Thanks for the great years, Kiku. I won’t forget them._

_Merry Christmas,_

_Alfred_

—

It would be a lie if Kiku didn’t look at the bottom before fully reading. Still, the letter had him staring for what seemed like an eternity. Now he was sure that the gift was indeed for him, and it only made him feel so much more anxious.

Recalling the mentioned photograph, the suspicion that had been building up from the time the subject appeared resurfaced into memory. Already he knew. He knew all too well.

Reaching back into the envelope, Kiku gently slid out the same photo that was attached to his locker door, the one he was eyeing over before he was drafted into an argument with Alfred. The answer that he had been searching for never was found, but with its remnants returned in his fingers, it was just waiting for him to speak it out loud. Thus, he returned his focus back on the said picture in an attempt to resume the work he had abandoned. Even if the mental block that prevailed through his trial should have vanished, scanning through with Alfred’s words in mind took him a considerable amount of time and effort. More than what he expected, at least.

And that was when he happened to focus on the thing Alfred was holding.

_Is that…a jar?_

It amazed the Japanese adolescent at how long ago they spanned back, and whether or not the other would agree about the gap in between, the deepness of their attachment to each other is undeniable. In addition to the fact that it started with a doodle, it truthfully was all silly and good-natured memories. Watching shows together, along with playing video games, introducing each other’s hobbies, being partners for most of their school projects, and so on, the two were nearly inseparable.

Hence came along the compromise of the paper stars after a final decision made by Kiku’s parents. Strictly in terms of business, they did their best to explain to him about the situation at hand, and being younger he could only blink back the tears and accept his reality—their reality. He truly did not expect for the blow to be exceedingly more than he could bear when he told Alfred. At such a young age, hearts were shattering with a resonance tenfold their sobs.

The very moment dragged for years that seeped into the present; it began with a painful jab, and then, nothing for a while. Afterwards the events of the photograph were years of separation. The two immediately got into sending each other letters, with firstly a message asking for strips, followed by a reply attached with the said strips. As the years progressed, lesser and lesser of the letters were sent, and what began as friendly exchanges died down to simple requests, until eventually none were ever able to leave any of their houses.

It was the thought of this that jumpstarted Kiku’s predicament: the moment at which he had given Alfred the jar, the conversation that remained so precious to him, transformed into a bitter resentment for what had happened. It fueled the retaliation he shot at the very end of their argument, and it lasts to disturb him endlessly.

What he had not been noticing is that the bitterness that he believed to originate from a sole line was false, and the true dilemma lies in his inability to remember the rest of their conversation. Throughout all these years of denial, it had not been realized until the very moment he discovered the empty jar in Alfred’s little hands.

The recurrence hit him in the force that a bullet would through frail glass.

* * *

 

_The other spoke up so as to reciprocate the favor, “Well…if you want, I’ll send you more…” he nodded in certainty, “…just mail me when you need them…!” His stare persisted with the downtrodden boy so that he saw his usual optimistic nature quickly come back._

_“Good idea…now I can’t wait to fill this up!” Alfred exclaimed with his smile steadily growing. “The day I stop asking for strips is the day I stop being friends with you!”_

_For some reason, the shorter boy was stung by those words and tears began to form in his dark eyes. Rapidly an explanation was delivered at the sight of them._

_“It’s just an expression! It means that we’ll be best friends forever, kay?”_

_Kiku sniffled softly but looked to him in understanding._

_“There ya go! I only said that ‘cause it’s gonna take_ forever _to fill the huge jar you gave me.” Reaching this point, Alfred had set the jar down on the ground, the strips inside falling back to the bottom. Slowly but surely, his friend’s tears had come to a halt._

_“And when I do, I’ll make sure to wish that I can see my friend again.”_

_Smile unyielding, he pulled him into a sincere hug that lasted for a while. He had not seen it, but eventually, Kiku brought his arms up and returned the hug, clutching him closely with a disregard for the world that could separate them._

* * *

 

Box having been emptied at last, Kiku stared at the jar before him, filled to the brim with paper stars.


	8. Paper Stars

_Some ways down the street, around the corner, into the nearest house of the first cul-de-sac._

The frost of the icy wind bit into his thin layer of clothing, lapping effortlessly through them as Kiku ran. The only additional items he threw on were a scarf and appropriate boots so that at least his feet may not get wet in the snow. Why he was running he did not know, but he managed to grasp partially at the fact that it was his emotions at work and not the usual rationality of his mind. Not often did he allow for this to happen, nor did he just allow it whatsoever, but they seemed to take control anyway deliberately against his wishes.

“Oh…? Hello, Kiku.”

He could barely maintain eye contact as he quietly panted, face quite flushed from exerting too much energy. Etiquette was not all important now in this situation. Matthew, feeling a bit awkward at the spot, stepped to the side as he opened the door wider. “Um—if you’re looking for Alfred, he’s upstairs,” he said, pointing up with his thumb.

Wordlessly, Kiku thanked him with a mere nod as he removed his boots and hurried in.

“Just be careful,” Matthew called after him, “he’s kind of sore.”

_Ah—the fight…_

Skipping steps at a time, he raced up the flight and down the corridor, his legs bringing him to his destination at last. Mechanically his right hand balled into a fist as it rose to come in contact with the door. As a knock had been initiated, the distance of a mere inch cushioned the two objects, becoming the same poles of a magnet to create an unexpected repulsion so that they never met.

Kiku stood there unmoving in front of Alfred’s door mid-knock. Whatever stopped his motion brought a sense of shock into his brain before he could register what he could. In a placid motion, his fist unfolded itself so that the five digits on his hand floated through the air, landing gently on the wooden surface of his barrier. It remained there as he stared on, the door becoming an opaque looking-glass and reflecting back the sole person that he had been searching for.

(There was an irregularity in the stillness of the air that Alfred could sense strongly in his subconscious, regardless of the concavity of his room. As much as he preferred to resume back to the comfort of his dreams, he propped himself up and squinted into the nothingness of his surroundings. Retrieving the new glasses he had been granted some time before, Alfred sat on the side of his bed with an expression of confusion directed at the door, for it was there that the inconsistency was originating from.)

Hand still cemented to the lines that ran up and down the white gate, Kiku inhaled deeply and permitted for his cobwebbed spontaneity to speak in his stead.

“I received your present, as well as your letter,” he began in a voice so quiet that it was almost inaudible. On Alfred’s part, it seemed to pound brusquely into the fragility of his eardrums.

“Before you get the wrong idea,” Kiku followed through, “I am not here to deliver a message of complaint, but rather…” and he bit his lip before proceeding, “…one of amendment.”

At the words, Alfred felt his heartbeat hitch.

“I truly am not sure how long I will be talking, and so I apologize in advance should it become inconvenient, but all I request is for you to please hear me out,” was the whisper that he could hear from the other side. What ensued sounded like a shaky breath, to which he somehow responded in a similar gesture.

Again, muteness prevailed before Kiku was pushed away from the haziness of his dreamlike state.

“The words I said that led us to where we are now… I never meant any of them in the least. I was too caught up in my emotions to think, and while I admit that what I’ve said cannot be taken back, I want to instead make my amends. This not only adheres to our argument, but also to those times I acted so unreasonably cold to you. I should not have been acting so absurdly, and I apologize for such immaturity.”

The dark eyes that fixated on the door never faltered once, and only seemed to glow in firmness and declaration.

“I plead that you not burden yourself with the idea of only you at fault, for we both know very well that it’s not solely one person who is held accountable for our ordeal. If at all, it leans more on my part, which is why I am here. Allow me to take responsibility; it was my childishness that led to this predicament.”

Emptiness filled the once occupied space of the bed, for at the foot of the obstruction now sat Alfred cross-legged.

“I am not sure how I have come to this future, for back then I envisioned something tremendously… tremendously different.”

A quiet and bitter laugh escaped from Kiku as he found himself trailing his fingers along the valleys, sitting on the carpeted floor as well.

What followed afterward was a turn of events that he had never planned. From an apology stemmed one-sided conversations in the direction of pure reminiscence: he spoke along about the past, of their dreams, and of their wishes. As he did so, the surroundings of the two gave way and faded into a forgotten obscurity. The hindrance that stood between them dissolved into snowy ashes so that it revealed two young boys sitting in front of each other, a small hand spread curiously on the slightly larger and fingers corresponding in a match. Mirror images of each other, one’s mouth remained open as more and more of the internal chaos that caused devastation in him flowed out into a transcendental beauty; in their eyes shone the stars of the universe despite the fact that they were invisible to each other.

For what felt like the years that had been lost between them retained its reality of minutes reaching to hours. The time revealed itself to Kiku like the shock from a dream as the sleeve of his top slid below his watch.

“—pardon, I’ve talked too much, haven’t I.”

Sighing as he did, he stood himself up from the illusory level and back into the real world. Alfred did not move from his position.

“Again, I am sorry for the trouble that I have caused.” Kiku returned as if their nostalgia had never existed. “I do not expect you to forgive me, as even with myself I could not do so.”

It was there that he thought he would have stopped talking, but on the spur of the moment the logic of his brain vanishes.

“And, a parting word before I leave. Going through your letter along with the occurrences of the past, I’ve come to acknowledge the effect of my errors, and so…” Pausing sharply so as to not crack his voice, Kiku breathed in and repeated. “…and so, I fully respect your decision that we remain in separate paths.

Thank you for the wonderful years, Alfred, as I won’t forget them as well.”

A fleeting moment passed of Kiku looking at the door as if he was looking at Alfred himself. He preferred to leave it at that without a response, and thus intended on exiting promptly after his unexpectedly longer speech. The small bit of hope that he suppressed down in the depths of his awareness died away, consenting for his leaden feet to move. Yet, as he backed from his spot, the door unlocked and a pair of arms threw upon him heavily. Out of the emptiness that he thought would never be filled, it seemed to instantaneously be replaced with the warmth that his hope had longed for. They wrapped around his figure, hugging him, and filling his void.

The very event took longer to fully register, and in exchange for his understanding was his vision that steadily blurred more and more. There was no exchange of words at all, for those with a relationship as strong as theirs would know that there were none needed to be said. Along a parallel universe, the two scenes replayed side by side in identical rhythm and intensity...he had not seen it, but eventually, Kiku brought his arms up and returned the embrace, clutching Alfred closely with a disregard for the world that could separate them.

They stood there together with him holding on to the puzzle piece he had been missing all along.

“My wish came true.”

“Your…wish…?”

Kiku smiled through the tears as he buried his face into the soft jacket of the other.

_…that I can see you again._

* * *

 

_Various hues of oranges and pinks spilled into the sky as the sun lethargically touched the horizon, the clouds in turn spreading these hues everywhere. As if to complement the transition, the houses that lined the street switched an illumination of remarkable decorum. It was not for another passing of prolonged instances that any kind of noise came to be. These noises increased in a volume of absolute solemnity where it dragged along a seemingly endless road. Soon enough, the sounds of what familiarized into diplomatic farewells differed in its own tune until the sands of the hourglass diminished at the top._

_The two entities that hung to the very last grains so as to counteract time stretched at their chance to be in each other’s presence for one more transient moment. They faced each other, unyielding, gazes solidified against the concrete plane on which they stood. Both knew that the inevitable has come, and as a pair of innocent minds, one could only repeatedly push it back while ignoring the consequences to such an impact as today._

_“So…I guess it’s—”_

_He nearly choked, and accordingly forced to shut himself up. The instances by which Alfred lost his ground would have been deviations to his usual, optimistic self. It was only that today was different and none like any he would have wished against for. In response, Kiku shifted his eyes by a centimeter as his hands clutched the hem of his sweater._

_“Please take good care…”_

_The hollow glass container that Alfred had been holding on to the entire day stabilized in its place as the grip on it tightened._

_“I will.”_

_Two older figures who waited patiently in front of a darkly-hued van looked at each other, questioning with their expressions at the scene that unfolded before them. Even from the strong connection of their child, they would never understand the mutual connection with which he shared with the other. They would never understand the tears that bubbled out of the eyes that viewed the world as merciful and generous._

_They would never understand the promise bound by the concept of a folded star in number._

_And heedlessly, they tried to understand and capture the remaining seconds that slipped through such small fingers._

_Approaching them with a camera in hand, Alfred caught the adult and quickly rubbed the wetness under his glasses. He sniffled for a moment, before reforming the brightest smile that he could muster. Soon after, Kiku too caught the atmosphere and allowed himself a deep breath before turning around._

_Adjusting the grip he had on the bottle, he brought his free arm around his friend and pulled him close._

_“…say ‘Keeks’!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fanfiction I fabricated. I always treasured the dynamic between Alfred and Kiku, and thought to expand upon it by exploring through both their minds and their history.  
> This definitely won't be the only writing project I'll have, so please stay tuned for any in the future, plus several oneshots scattered here and there!


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